


The mouth test [Eng Translation]

by Lilitth, liralia



Series: Germa 66 Company [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, English translation, Germa 66, M/M, Translation, using a blender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24449860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilitth/pseuds/Lilitth, https://archiveofourown.org/users/liralia/pseuds/liralia
Summary: “Germa 66 presents a new product that will cause a revolution in the blender market: Arnory Mimorin Techclic 66! With a stylish design and innovative technology it can fulfill all of your culinary wishes! It's six blades are capable of extracting the very best from the ingredients and thus making the food tastier and more nutritious. It's jar is odorless and tasteless, therefore no matter what kind of product you prepare in this wonderful blender, there will be no interference from one food to another. It offers twelve - yes, I said TWELVE - speed options to use in different types of ingredients and recipes. Arnory Mimorin Techclic 66 is the help in the kitchen that you always wanted! Get one for you now!”Forty uninterrupted minutes of Germa 66 advertisements was too much for any soul to endure. Zoro almost threw the TV, which wasn't his, out the window.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Series: Germa 66 Company [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764511
Kudos: 48





	1. Reading the user manual is for those who had a weak will

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [The mouth test](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23338918) by [liralia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liralia/pseuds/liralia). 



> **T.N.:** liralia is the one who wrote it, I just translated.
> 
> **T.N.2:** English is not my native language, so, sorry for any grammar mistakes, misspells or inconsistencies.
> 
> **Fanfic translated with the author’s permission.**

The Germa 66 had never managed to flourish well enough during previous administrations to be considered a major company in the market, but when Judge Vinsmoke managed to take it from his grandfather's hands, this changed. Under his ambitious and firm leadership, he abandoned the traditional ways of his family and succeeded, by heavily investing in innovatives technology, in building a multinational empire. It took years of investment and risky decisions - plus suspicious connections - but now the Germa 66 logo was easily recognisable by any consumer who saw it on the products. It’s name became famous and the company earned a good reputation.

Judge was very proud of his own achievement and aiming to maintain that empire, even when came the time he would have to step down, he trained - from a very young age - all five of his children to be equally fierce and ambitious in achieving what they wanted. Unfortunately, his fourth son, Sanji, never showed the same commitment as his siblings in the art of fierceness. He was the most similar to his mother in both blond hair and friendly behavior, to Judge's displeasure.

Without knowing it, Sanji was considered a complete failure by his own father. At first he didn't realize that his father's discontentment, though visible, was so deep, but when he was transferred to one of the smallest - and insignificant - departments as soon as his mother, Sora Vinsmoke, died of cancer, Sanji realized that the only reason Judge tolerated him anywhere near him was because of her sweet influence.

Oddly enough, this insight made Sanji more determined in doing his best in the new department to prove to his father that he did not need to act in an authoritarian or strictly punitive way to achieve good results. He became the manager of the Kitchen Appliances Department, and under his guidance a prosperous era with his subordinates offering good ideas began. Sanji even decided to go a little beyond his job - after discovering a certain passion for cooking - and was responsible for creating some of the appliance projects submitted the previous year. 

His greatest pride's item, that has been leading the department's sales for no less than six months, was an incredible blender that even earned him an email from the company's president - aka Judge - with a very apathetic 'congratulations'. Sanji almost could feel the bitter taste of the unwillingness contained in that short message, but the satisfaction was immense. But surely his mother was proud of him, no matter in what kind of heaven she was.

* * *

Early that morning, Sanji read in his horoscope: _An unforeseen event will put your peace of mind in check, but deal with it using patience and the problems will be minimal. Impulsivity should be channelled into beneficial actions. Lack of inspiration? Invest in new airs to unwind. Fortune color: Uncertain Gray._

Sanji had particularly failed to understand why that site had decided to use nail polish color names for lucky colors. And where, by any chance, could he find any 'uncertain gray' colored items? Anyway, he wasn't a addict to things like horoscopes, but he found it slightly amusing to compare his everyday life to the weekly horoscope. Perhaps, deep inside, he would even believe it a little - after all, the frequency he consulted them was increasing more and more - but he would never admit it out loud. And although he refused to blindly believe in these random things, he spent the day slightly worried about the ‘peace of mind in check’ part.

What would it mean?

Leaning in a little to see better the design displayed on the monitor, Sanji pointed to the fruit squeezer handle depicted there. It was the model that would be added as a complement to the HealthLife premier product line or perhaps it would be placed along with the other prizes for the company's upcoming birthday draw.

“This shape doesn't match the size of the product. And remember, it has to harmonize with the juice jar.” Sanji commented, but when he turned he soon noticed distress on his subordinate's face. “You're doing a great job.” He added quickly, giving him congratulatory pats on his back.

There was a noticeable decrease in the level of distress on the face of the young man who had recently joined the department and was still trying to adapt to the new working environment. Since he hadn't had enough interaction time to know that there were no cases of dismissals due to any triviality (which seemed to have been the case in his previous work) the young man in question was apprehensive about any comment coming from the Vinsmoke.

Sanji checked his wristwatch and went to his own desk to let the poor newbie work in peace for the last minutes of working time. During the short walk, one female subordinate asked for his advice on the details of a collection of cake baking pans, which he gave very willingly and well mannered as his good mother had taught him. “ _Always treat women like goddesses, my sweet boy. You shouldn't hit them even with butterfly wings_.” She once said when Sanji got into a fight with a girl from his class. Or at least he was fairly sure those were her words. 

By the time he finally managed to sit in his chair, office hours had come to a end and his employees began to tidy their own desks to go home. He didn't rush though, since he was always the last one to leave. He watched his subordinates serenely leave, mentally grateful for the false alarm that the morning horoscope gave him. There was no _check_ , after all.

Turning his attention back to the computer, he unlocked the lock screen and started the ritual he had been doing since his last project was launched in the market. He opened the website of the company's largest partner and checked each of its items, analyzing the evaluations and comments left by customers who purchased the products. He always checked them in a ascending order, leaving his most famous product for last: the Arnory Mimorin Techclic 66 blender. 

He proudly appreciated the four images in the ad, admiring his own work. It was considered one, if not The Best, of the best blenders on the market and right below the page there was a cascade of comments and positive evaluations to prove the quality of the product. An involuntary smile took over his lips as he fetched a cigarette in his pants pockets out of pure habit. He didn't find any, since he was trying to quit smoking, and resigned himself to grabbing a mint candy from a bowl on the table.

His Arnory Mimorin Techclic 66 had a jar that was not saturated by odors and didn't stained over time, was resistant to thermal shock, had a six-blade cutting technology (while its competitors had only four simple blades), It allowed the jar blades to be detached in order to facilitate cleaning and also had a flexible silicone lid with a larger opening that allowed the addition of ingredients during it’s use. Besides all these qualities the blender model still had a charming design that matched any kitchen and was available in a variety of fifteen colours.

However, as he was about to put the candy in his mouth, he rolled the mouse's scroll wheel with his other hand and found, to his utter horror, that there was a recently negative evaluation. The candy rolled to the floor, but he couldn't care less. All his attention was now on that number 1 displayed in the negative evaluations in a terrible red tone.

How did that happen? No, it couldn't be real. He closed the page and then opened it again, not really being able to just leave it. He stared at the number for a few good minutes thinking about his next course of action. But what the hell could he do in a situation like that anyway? Nothing, that was the answer. Because of this, it took another good few minutes for him to finally have the courage to click on the red number and be able to see what the complainant had left written. As soon as the message was displayed, his eyes nervously ran through the few words contained there.

_“This crap is useless.”_

He blinked, incredulous. Seriously, that was the message? The person hadn't even explained why they didn't like the product! Oh, he couldn't just let it go! He wouldn't be (indirectly) offended like that and stay quiet. Even if he wanted, he couldn't. Suddenly decided to discover the identity of the user who posted the complaint, Sanji unlocked the phone. He even knew to who he had talk to get that information.

It was in times like that he enjoyed certain benefits that the surname Vinsmoke provided him.

* * *

Zoro Roronoa was a simple man. So simple, in fact, that he couldn't really handle too much technological stuff. Some would even call him a caveman, but that didn’t matter right now. What did matter is that he had been able to survive in this modern age in which things displayed more and more functions every day, because he lived together with his sister, Tashigi Roronoa, and it was her who dealt with such objects. However, after Tashigi married a guy named Smoker, she decided to move out to a nearby town and start her married life there. Zoro then had to learn how to deal with the devices of modern life on his own.

At first he didn't think it would be very difficult, but after breaking the fourth electric pan and throwing some good spatulas and plastic spoons in the garbage for melting while trying to prepare some food, he decided that the kitchen definitely hated him. To survive he began to eat, during lunch, the ready-made lunch boxes from the convenience stores near his work and for dinner he would buy a portion of the first food stall that he found on his way.

For a while he managed to deceive himself that he was not in a bad situation, but after a month of eating that way he couldn't even bear to see the color of the yakisoba sold on the corner of his street or have to chew the contents of the lunchbox that was mysteriously tasteless despite being colorful. In the end, a friend who was aware of his situation decided to give him tips on how to live alone and recommended some indispensable culinary products for those who wanted to start preparing their own food. And trusting in the reports of Johnny's own use, Zoro bought a blender that promised to be revolutionary and had blades as sharp as a shuriken.

The product was delivered on time and was well packed in bubble wrap. Zoro took it out of the box, accommodating the blender in a free corner of the counter next to the kitchen sink. He had to admit that the piece _was_ quite pretty - although he didn't understand much about it - and it came with a relatively thick manual describing all the functions and culinary possibilities that the blender provided. And of course he threw the heavy manual in the kitchen trash bin. Who needed to read so many pages to learn how to use a simple little thing like that? Following his instincts were good enough, and trusting this, he turned back to stick some food inside the blender jar. 

It took him a few minutes to properly attach the jar on the base and also to close the lid, as apparently, it was packed full with the amount of food he put in. When he finally turned on the machine and it’s hum echoed through the air, Zoro felt proud of his autodidact performance. He sneered at the manual in the garbage and went to the toilet to take a piss while the blender worked furiously.

However, contrary to his expectations, as he left the toilet, shaking his hands to remove the excess water, he smelled a curious scent in the air that was nothing like the scent of the food he was preparing. He frowned and quickly headed towards the kitchen, which seemed to be the source of the smell. And it was with great astonishment that he saw the blender on fire, there, on the countertop, next to the sink and almost touching the cupboard above it.

“Hm... “ He wisely said.

His plans for a homemade dinner were more than ruined considering that the blender committed suicide on its first day of use. He scratched the back of his head, completely disappointed. What kind of crap had Johnny recommended? Or was it really the kitchen that hate him?

Anyway, he put out the fire with the extinguisher - he had learned how to use it after burning a couple frying pans with their contents beyond toasted - and after heating a seafood-flavoured Cup Noodles, he sat down in front of his laptop ready to complain about the product. The laptop was a very old model, the kind that stopped receiving updates for it's Operating System for over a year and maybe because of that it was too slow to perform any small activity.

In the end, the laptop crashed and Zoro had to ask his friend Robin for help to send the comment. Or the damned comment, if you prefer.

Never again he would buy something from the internet.


	2. A man's pride is as fragile as crystal

It cost him some favors and a bit of his pride, but Sanji got the address of the bad character person who had (indirectly) defamed him on the internet. Zoro Roronoa. Even the name suggested someone of a terrible nature. He grunted as he firmly walked, for the third day in a row, towards the dark brown door. In the previous two days he had ringed the bell until he got tired, but no one answered the door, now he would wait until someone showed up, even if he had to set up camp there. 

He lifted his hand to ring the bell, however, before he could do it, a voice interrupted him.

“I don't want to subscribe to anything. Or buy anything. Stop insisting with this shit.”

Shocked, Sanji turned and stared at the taciturn man who had just arrived. He was wearing a black suit and had a unfriendly expression. In one of his hands was a bag of groceries. He walked quietly to the door, pulled the keys out of his pocket and unlocked it in one move. Then he slammed the door right in Sanji's face, not even giving the other a chance to defend himself.

“What the hell is he? A goddamn hitman?” He asked the wind, wondering for the first time if a comment on the Internet was worth all this effort.

The doubt, however, lasted only a few seconds, because when the short and revolting comment came back to his memory, his anger flared up again. He rang the bell, and not finding it enough, started knocking on the door too.

The door suddenly opened, showing a very annoyed looking Zoro.

“The fuck?!”

Taking a deep breath and displaying his best commercial smile, Sanji extended him the company's card. In his mind, the horoscope's words kept repeating endlessly.

“You're wrong, Mr. Roronoa. I didn't come here to offer you to subscribe to a magazine, or sell anything. I only came to investigate your problem with one of our products. Germa 66 values its clients very much.”

With a look full of suspicion and an arched eyebrow, Zoro read the card.

“Am I gonna have to pay for that?”

_Stingy bastard!_

“No, of course not. Actually, I brought another product of the same model to replace the defective one.” He said as he pointed to the box under his arm. The smile was starting to hurt on his face.

Still a little suspicious, Zoro allowed him to pass through the door. While he was being guided into the kitchen, Sanji tried not to be distracted by the antique atmosphere of the house. It seemed to have come straight out of the Early Heisei era! In the living room there was a TV so old he doubted it still worked. He brushed the bangs that covered one of his eyes, seeking to maintain his inner peace just as the message in the horoscope recommended.

But the worst was when Zoro stopped and pointed to a pile of melted plastic and deformed metal parts - besides some undefined material - saying that that was the blender. Sanji's eyes widened like plates and he almost dropped the box with the new blender he was carrying.

“That... That... How did you do that?!”

Zoro put his hands in his pockets.

“It committed suicide.”

“The blender?”

“Do you see something else dead here?”

Sanji almost replied that if he looked hard enough he was sure he could find some murder evidence, because Zoro had the aura of a classic Yakuza member. Fortunately, at the last second, he managed to control his mouth. He took a deep breath, resisting the urge to kick him between the legs.

Being patient was more difficult than he imagined. An almost Herculean job.

“What, exactly, were you trying to make?” He asked after a quiet scoff.

“Stew.”

How, in the name of all the gods, did he intend to make stew in the blender?! He had to lean on the counter in order to not fall on the ground. He was way too horrified.

It was one absurdity after another!

“Sukiyaki?” Zoro nodded. “Okay. Could you please describe how the preparation went?”

Zoro shrugged and opened the fridge looking for something to chew on while he talked. “I put cabbage, potatoes, tomatoes, mushrooms and meat in, then turned it on. I went to the toilet and when I came back it was on fire. It didn’t manage to make even such a simple thing.”

Potato and cabbage? Tomato?! What kind of sukiyaki was he trying to make? He was even worried about what kind of mushroom he used in that gastronomic monstrosity. A vein, that was already pulsating since he entered the house, appeared on his forehead. To hell with patience!

“What the fuck did you try to do with my blender? First of all, you can't make stew on it! And it's a crime to add tomatoes in sukiyaki!”

Zoro raised an eyebrow, closing the fridge door without taking any food from it. 

“Your blender?” The beginning of a mocking smile appeared on Zoro’s lips. Now everything made sense. “So it was you who designed it? Is that why you're pissed that it malfunctioned?” He laughed. “It’s not my fault you designed something so useless.”

Sanji ground his teeth so hard that it could be heard even in the street corner from how intense and revolting it was. His face gained an incredible red tone and for a brief moment Zoro thought his head would explode from pure anger. Fortunately, his bet was wrong. It'd be a lot of work to clean up a mess like that.

Without saying another word, Sanji threw the remains of the burned appliance in the garbage, took the new blender out of the box and put it in the same place the burned one was on the countertop. Then he searched through all the cabinets without asking for permission, and also the fridge for the necessary items. Revolted, he realized that there weren't many cookable things in that place, but refusing to give up without fighting, he decided to improvise.

Sanji used the blender to prepare the dough, make the tomato sauce and make a homemade mayonnaise which he reserved in the fridge. He did not need to taste the food to know that the flavors of the preparations hadn't mixed, because the jar's material had been developed precisely for this not to happen. Washing the object well between one process and another was enough so that everything came out as it should. After that there were a couple cooking phases, 40 minutes to bake well and 5 minutes to arrange the dish.

And with a satisfied smile, he deposited a slice of miso pizza, egg and broccoli in front of a very incredulous Zoro. The smell and the temperature were more than perfect, Zoro would have nothing to complain about. Even if he wanted to! He positioned himself a little away from the table, drying his hands on a dish rag, and smiled satisfied with the result of his work.

Zoro though... He looked with suspicious at the plate. He took a long time assessing it, almost seemingly not willing enough to experiment, but contrary to Sanji's thoughts, Zoro raised the slice with his bare hands - ignoring the heat that was steaming - and bit it whole. 

Sanji watched him chewing loudly without seeing any signs of discomfort from the temperature on his face. At another time he would have made a joke regarding the resistance of such a tongue, but the anxiety for the response and the anger at the negligence with his precious product did not prompt him to make any funny comments. He just wanted to get it over with already and go home to sleep in peace. Oh, how well he'd sleep after finally getting that settled.

He watched the man swallow the food, already letting the beginning of a victory smile form in his lips. However, the words that followed almost made him fall on his back: 

“Tastes like crap.”

Sanji froze.

The word ‘crap’ had been used not once but twice to refer to products that were the result of his labour. That wasn't possible. He haven't heard that word since he stopped trying to compete with his siblings when they were younger. 

That. Wasn't. Possible.

“What did you say?”

“The pizza tastes like a piece of crap. And that blender is definitely useless.”

Sanji's heart missed a beat with the impact those words had on his ego. His confidence almost shattered, luckily he had heard much worse from his father in his life, and the offense coming from an unknown person did not affect him so much. Or perhaps not so luckily. Anyway, not being able to believe that those words had come out of the mouth of someone who had tasted his majestic food, he squeezed his fists and took a step in Zoro's direction. His consternation, however, was so big that the words fled from his mouth and he couldn't even talk back.

In the end, he snarled like a wounded animal, threw the dish rag on the table and stormed out of the kitchen. He even slammed the door when leaving to show how angry he was.

What a hellish day!

* * *

On the first opportunity he had, Zoro escaped from the after-wedding party. Johnny and his beautiful bride will have to forgive him, but after an exhaustive ceremony, though simple, and the endless noise of the party after, he simply had no more tolerance for all that. And to make matters worse, someone had forgotten to buy alcoholic drinks and the food served was one of the worst things he ever tasted in his life. So when a new deafening song began and the general attention turned to a guy break dancing in the middle of the dance floor, Zoro stood up and left the hall without further ado.

Of course, before that, he left an envelope with tickets to a hostel in a small tourist town along the other presents for the bride and groom. He had spent a good amount of money on this gift, but he knew they had no honeymoon plans because their finances didn't allow it and Johnny, although he failed as a friend when he referred to him that demonic blender, was one of his oldest friends.

He left without a heavy conscience. He took the subway, bought some instant food packages at the grocery store and thought about his mediocre life during the short walk to his house. That week had been a busy one, with the cultural festival coming up and Zoro being one of the few male teachers at school, he had to stay late to help set up several tents and decorations that required a little more manual labour. Just when he thought his day couldn't get any worse, he saw a blond man standing in front of his house with a obstinate look and a suspicious box under his arm.

Another salesman?! Last month one of those stuck more than ten flyers under the door every day, trying to convince him to subscribe to a generality magazine. And that very week he had woken up at 3 in the morning, having fallen asleep fatigued after arriving home at midnight, with a salesman ringing non-stop his doorbell. He was a salling homemade insomnia medicines. Zoro almost punched the old man for his nonsense.

And for this reason, he walked up to the door with a unfriendly expression, passed the man already saying he didn't want to subscribe or buy anything, and entered the house, closing the door on his face. He was ready to relax in the silence of his home when the man began to knock on the door and ring the bell like a madman. When he opened the door again, willing to get rid of the person even if he had to shout at them, he was surprised to find that the blond man did not have the sloppy appearance that salesmen use to have. 

However, it was something in that blue gaze that had the same shade of a poisonous little fruit that he once prevented a brainless student from eating, that convinced him to make room for Sanji to enter. But it was also curiosity that made him allow the blond, after trying to defend his product tooth and nail, to mess and move around the kitchen as he liked.

At first he had doubts about Sanji's mental faculties, as he could not understand why he was so offended and horrified to discover that the blender had caught on fire, or why he began to fuss around the remaining supplies left by Tashigi before she moved out. But when he started to smell the food being prepared, his stomach suddenly contracted very eager.

What when the pizza slice was served? Before he could open his mouth to bite it, he had to swallow the saliva that had accumulated. And he could have sworn he almost reached nirvana after his tongue tasted the first really delicious food he'd eaten since... Well, it's been a long time since he'd eaten anything delicious like this. It was the kind of food that definitely deserved a compliment.

However, looking at Sanji's expectant face and remembering that he had made this food using a blender just like the one that burned... Giving _positive_ feedback would be like attesting to his own inability handling household appliances.

Therefore, his answer could only be: _Tastes like crap._

The blond's cocky expression was completely shattered and Zoro almost felt a little regret when the other stormed out slamming the door, leaving behind the still warm miso pizza, broccoli and egg. Or rather, the regret only lasted until he got up to grab the baking sheet where the rest of the pizza was. He enjoyed the food with a bottle of soft sake while looking at the night sky, sitting on the engawa of the house. Then he had a heavy and refreshing sleep.

He spent the next whole day without thinking about blenders or the beautiful blonde who knew how to really cook, but when he returned home, again late at night, he was surprised to see the scenario repeating itself, this time Sanji was not holding a box under his arm but several grocery bags. He frowned while approaching the meddling Germa 66 employee.

“What are you doing here?”

Sanji, who had been sitting on the doorsteps, stood up. An unshakeable smile on his lips.

“You've finally arrived. Why do you always come so late? Well, anyway, can you open the door already? Those bags are heavy.”

Zoro was so surprised by the non-aggressive behavior of the other that he opened the door without thinking, letting Sanji go straight to the kitchen. He observed, slightly intrigued, Sanji analyzing the room and starting to empty the bags he had brought, organizing the products where he thought appropriate. They were full of the most varied foods and soon the cupboards and the fridge were fuller than they had been a long time ago.

Clearly Sanji had not given up, as he had barely finished storing the groceries and was already preparing some other dough in the blender. He reserved the dough in a glass container in the fridge, then started to cut a portion of meat into small pieces on top of a wooden board that Zoro had forgotten he owned.

Seeing that there was nothing he could do there and that Sanji didn't seem to want to talk, Zoro withdrew from the room and went to prepare the test that he would apply the following Thursday. He was selecting an passage from a poem written by Matsuo Basho for the seventh question when the office door slid smoothly.

“You live alone in this huge house?” Sanji asked, coming in with a tray covered with a shiny silver lid.

Zoro looked up from the sheets he was scribbling on, taking off his glasses.

“Yes. Any problem with that?”

Sanji shook his head. His hands already trying to find a space on the desk to place the medium sized tray.

“It just looks a little lonely.” He pointed out, casting a curious glance over the pages that the other written several notes on. “What were you doing?”

“Next week's Literature test.”

Zoro didn't even know why he was casually talking to the intruder in his house, but with his attention focused on the tray recently laid out on the desk, he couldn't care less. However, the surprise in the tone of Sanji's voice in his next sentence made him curiously look up.

“Wait, you are… A teacher?”

Zoro raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. I teach Literature and History." He narrowed his eyes. "What did you think I worked as?"

With a lame cough, Sanji crossed his arms. "Nothing much. But anyway, why don't you do it on a computer? It would save time."

“I plan better writing it down.”

That sounded like an excuse from people who types slow, but Sanji preferred not to comment as to not risk influencing his mood.

“If you say so… Now eat already.”

Zoro then turned his attention to the silver lid and raised it with more expectation in his heart than he would like to admit. On the tray were three of the famous French crepes he had only seen in his sister's romantic films. Each with a different filling. He took the first, which looked like cheese, palm heart and meat, and took a big bite without even thinking twice.

He soon noticed the return of the expectant face on the blond while delighting in the unparalleled taste of crepe. Again, he had nothing to complain about. In fact, he almost felt obliged to show how much he liked it even with a simple nod of his head. However, a quick thought crossed his mind. What would happen if he repeated the act of the previous night and said he didn't liked it? Would Sanji be frustrated enough to show up the next day to cook again?

Using his excellent logical reasoning, he decided to take a chance. He had nothing to lose after all.

“Awful.”

Sanji's shoulders immediately dropped, his eyes blinking with incredulity. The shock of the second negative response seemed to have been too overwhelming for him, and it took his soul a moment to return to his body. But when it returned, Sanji grabbed his collar, staring at him furiously.

“I’m the one who used to smoke but it’s your fucking taste buds that are dead. Awful? You don’t know what good food is. It’s your shitty tongue that must be rotten!”

And having said that, Sanji left saying the most horrible curses his mind could remember.

Zoro snorted, taking one more bite out of the well filled crepe. From the explosion he had just witnessed, maybe - just maybe - his plan backfired. But who would have thought that the blond would have such grand culinary vanity?


	3. Obviously a blender can be a good cupid

As if to prove his plan had failed, there was no trace or sign of Sanji the following night. And in the next one. And neither in the one after that. In a bad mood for having to eat instant food again, Zoro was more taciturn than usual. Not even his more troublesome students dared to provoke him in the last few days.

Later that day, he got a call from Tashigi.

“I already said I'm fine. You should worry about your husband.”

“ _Smoker never set a kitchen appliance on fire, you on the other hand..._ ”

Zoro grumbled, feeling tempted to hang up on his sister. He never should have told that story to Robin. It was possibly through her that Tashigi heard about it. His ear was already hurting because of the already long call.

He was walking on the sidewalk with his cell phone on his ear and a backpack on his shoulder full of exams to be graded. Tashigi had called to give him a nice earful about the precautions one should take in the kitchen, but it had been a good few minutes since Zoro had given up paying attention to her words. As he got closer to home, he looked for someone at his door. It was just an automatic move, so he was surprised when he actually saw someone standing there waiting for him.

He turned off his phone without saying goodbye and opened the door for a renewed obstinate looking Sanji to pass through.

From then on the progression was natural. Zoro continued saying that the food was bad and Sanji continued cooking the most varied dishes whenever he could. Zoro did not mind when the other adopted the flower pattern apron that had been worn by his sister shortly before she got married and moved out. He also saw no problem in giving him a spare key after on a rainy night Sanji caught a cold waiting for him completely soaked. They started eating dinner together, too. Sometimes they would eat out or watch theatre plays. On rainy days, they played Go, Shogi or Chess.

At one point Sanji even tried to teach him how to cook the basic, but after several incidents with fire, he thought it was best to keep him away from any process involving heating. He was demoted to only cut vegetables and meat, something he proved to be very good at.

And just like that they both built a ritual of meeting almost every day and when it didn't happen, Zoro caught himself missing the presence of the arrogant blonde. Zoro liked seeing him cook, but not just that. He liked the songs Sanji sang out of tune when he was stirring a pot, the acid humor he used to criticize Zoro's inability with modern devices, and even Sanji's annoyed expression when he lost an argument.

On a Sunday that Sanji did not show up, Zoro wrote several haikus to pass the time, a hobby that he hadn't practised for years, and later he realized that they were all about Sanji.

* * *

With his hands crossed in front of his mouth and his elbows resting on the table, Sanji looked at the computer screen with a very serious expression. The department was as busy as always, mainly because they were finishing the projects for Germa 66's birthday, but none of this mattered in the face of the displayed message on his screen.

In it was a short and objective email from his father's secretary with the words:

> _The president is aware of your recent association with a high school teacher, the negative comment on your most famous product, and your relaxed attitude towards work in the last few weeks. It is desirable that, given the weight and responsibility that the surname Vinsmoke carries, you reconsider your behaviour and make the appropriate decisions._

Sanji closed the message and sighed, not believing what he had just read. Sure, lately he spent much of his free time either thinking about recipes that would please the archaic palate, or going on evening outings with Zoro. However, this had not been interfering with his work. The department's performance remained the same. So what the hell did Judge mean by “reconsider your behavior and make the right decisions"?

“He wants me to think about work and only work 24 hours a day?!” Sanji complained, drinking another glass of wine. “What's he gonna do? Fire me for having a social life? I guarantee that if he does that, I won't hesitate in looking for a job in the biggest rival company out there!” 

Sitting in front of him, Luffy - a long-time friend who worked in the mattresses department - laughed out loud for his dramatics. They met by chance in front of a small ramen restaurant and decided sharing a table to catch up. However, it was Sanji who was dominating the conversation from the beginning, who seemed to have more to complain. But Luffy, asking for bowl after bowl of ramen, didn't seem to mind not having a chance to complain about life. 

“Who does he think he is to want to control me like that? I'm a grown ass man who can make his own decisions. And he still had the audacity to monitor me! I bet he even knows who Zoro's great-great-grandfather was. Or what color his pubes are! What a meddlesome old fart!”

Luffy laughed out loud not paying attention to the glares the other customers in the little establishment threw at him. Luckily he had already swallowed the noodles in his mouth, because otherwise he would have choked. 

“Oh, I know how it is, I went through something like that too! My grandpa and dad also investigated Law's life when we started dating. They liked him so much that they even took Law to a family dinner to show off the guns from Grandpa's collection and my father's sniper medals.” He commented laughing, recalling the event he considered funny.

Sanji frowned. That was definitely not a case similar to his. And more importantly, had Luffy's boyfriend been indirectly threatened with this gun collection and sniper medal? Sanji didn't even know the guy, but he already pitied the man called Law.

“Wait, I think you got it wrong. Zoro is not my boyfriend. You can't have gone through the same thing.”

Luffy tilted his head in an obviously confused expression.

“No? But you like him.”

Sanji pressed his lips together. He wanted to deny his friend's assumption, but his voice refused to come out. He didn't like Zoro like that. Fine, he admitted that although they got off on the wrong foot, they managed to establish a friendly routine where Sanji cooked only wanting Zoro to admit that his food was good and that his blender was indispensable. And, well, it is true that after a while he forgot this conflict and started to elaborate varied dishes for pure fun, especially after he learned to read between the lines of the grumpy expressions of the man who behaved like a samurai from the last century. Besides, he found out Zoro wasn't such bad company to have for dinner.

But thinking about it now... It was a little weird that they were still meeting even after the initial problem was forgotten. Sanji had even received a spare key to get into Zoro's house whenever he wanted. He had gotten so used to it that when he didn't see him, he felt a little dejected, as if something was missing to complete his day. Even the fact that Zoro was completely averse to technology no longer annoyed him. He actually thought it was charming now.

“I do like him.” He concluded surprised, pressing his hands against his face. That's why his father's indirect email had pissed him off so much. He didn't want to stop meeting Zoro, even if it seemed inappropriate in Judge's eyes.

And another obvious realization: after all these years of saying that he didn't care about his father's opinion, Sanji realized that he was unconsciously still trying to live up to his intransigent expectations.

Luffy, unaware of the other's astonishment, offered his good tips since he saw himself as a expert on the subject.

“Now you just need to propose to him.” He said in a tone of obviousness. “It worked for me, so it has a 100% chance of working for you too.”

Sanji choked on the wine.

* * *

“So? How's your flirting with the blender guy?” Robin inquired, depositing on the center table a pot of cinnamon doughnuts made by her.

Zoro grumbled, not paying attention to his neighbor's intrusion, since she helped him whenever he had problems with his laptop. Robin sat cross-legged on the couch next to him and spied on what he was trying so hard to do on his cell phone.

“Oh, you bought a new phone?” This time she was genuinely surprised.

For many years she had been trying to convince him to exchange his old cell phone for a more modern one that would be able to at least run the Line app. Not even she who loved archaeology and relics would want to use his old phone. It was a Nokia from the days when internet access was still full of limitations. A Nokia 5300, if she wasn't mistaken. A dinosaur among cell phones.

“Sanji convinced me that talking through Line is very necessary these days.”

Robin smiled.

“Yes, it is necessary. Sometimes it is the quickest way to contact a person when a relative had an accident or died.”

Zoro narrowed his eyes, concerned. He knew his friend had a bad habit of always giving tragic examples.

“Anyway, I don't know how to use this.” He decided, scratching his head in a embarassed manner. “Why does it has so many symbols?”

Robin was going to offer her help when the phone started ringing and Zoro answered without batting an eyelash. Assuming it was the infamous Sanji in the other end, she started to look around the room seeing the small changes that had occurred in the ambiance. There was a recent beautiful painting on the wall, cook books next to the literature ones on the bookshelf and a new plant pot near the door.

“Yes, I can.” Said Zoro answering to something. “Send the address. Hm. Yeah. When?”

Back to investigating the place, after all Robin hadn't shown up for a game night in a while, she noticed a pile of papers inside a notebook next to her pot of cinnamon doughnuts. She took the stuffed notebook to take a look at the contents of what appeared to be a considerable amount of detached and folded drafts. The set of sentences contained in the first piece of paper that she picked up really surprised her.

"Feeling romantic, Zoro?" She asked with a smile when he came back with the Shogi board in one of his hand.

She unbelievably witnessed Zoro, a man in his full 30s with a history of displeasing ex-girlfriends for his lack of amiability, blushing with embarrassment. He tsked, throwing the board on the table and shoving one of the pastries in his mouth.

“Don’t even start” He said between one bite and another. Then he got a thoughtful look while eyeing the pastries. “Sanji's are better.”

* * *

Early in the morning Sanji checked his horoscope of the week. He still wouldn't admit to being addicted to it, although now he checked daily, twice a day.

_"Good fortunes are coming! If you are going through moments of critical decisions, time to listen to your friendships. Remember, a good friend is a treasure and shouldn't be underestimated. Luck in finances and love. Perhaps you want to invest in creativity. Lucky color: Showtime Purple."_

He reread the entire message three times and then focused on the phrase "time to listen to your friendships". Did it refer to the tip a co-worker had given him about black clothes looking good on him? Or maybe it was about the time a cousin of his said he should change the side his bangs?

Oh, who was he trying to fool? He barely had enough friends to count in one hand, but surely the horoscope wasn't talking about Luffy, right? His advice had been to propose! Sanji couldn't just approach the man he had only known for two and a half months, and who he happened to have a certain romantic interest, already asking to marry. Zoro would laugh at his face, to say the least.

That was something for delusional teenagers who had fallen in love for the first time!

Lost in his many internal monologues, Sanji only became aware of the strong burning smell when the stew could no longer be saved. His cassoulet, which had been cooking for two days, was spoiled. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Never, not even when he was still learning how to cook, had he burned something to the point where it was of no use. Not the dish that was his mother's favourite!

Was it the nervousness of inviting Zoro to his own home for the first time? After all, ever since he woke up Sanji was feeling like a pile of nerves. It got worse when he read his horoscope and only managed to associate everything with that damned thing Luffy said. He took more time than he should trying to make the house look presentable and finally got to cook the special dinner of the night.

Unfortunately, it turned out like that.

He took a deep breath, put another nicotine patch on his forearm, making a total of three, and looked at the wall clock. He still had an hour and a half until the time he had agreed with Zoro, so he could improvise some other simple meal. In the worst case scenario, he could always order take out, although he would feel like a failure if he had to resort to that.

He grabbed a sharp knife to cut the portion of meat he put on the sink, considering the possibility of preparing beef curry to eat with the rice that was already cooked.

He didn't even manage to bring the blade closer to the meat portion before the doorbell loudly rang. He quickly washed his hands, and still drying them, made his way to the door. Looking through the peephole, to his displeasure, he saw Zoro, in a fine suit. It was the first time he saw him dressed so well, except on the day he showed up in a suit looking like an angry yakuza.

But back to the matter at hand, Sanji couldn't believe it. Hadn't Zoro himself admitted to having a certain problem with punctuality because he had a bad sense of direction? How had he gotten here so early?!

He ran back to the kitchen to see what was ready and almost pulled his own hair out when he saw something he already knew: he only had burnt cassoulet, white rice and some mochis he prepared in advance. As the bell rang again and he couldn't simply leave Zoro standing at the entrance, he resigned himself to reality. The dinner wouldn't go the way he had planned.

"Good evening." Zoro greeted, looking at him from top to bottom. "Hm, I brought wine."

He offered a bottle of red wine. Zoro, like an authentic Japanese, preferred sake to any other alcoholic drink, so bringing a red wine to their dinner was a clear demonstration that he was trying to please him. Speechless by the gesture, Sanji even forgot to return the greeting.

“You got here early. How'd you do it?”

"I got a ride." He shrugged. "... Is there something burning?"

"Oh. No, no. There was a problem, but I'll fix it." He said as he hurried towards the kitchen, being closely followed by Zoro.

Trying to get rid of the evidence of his failure, Sanji threw the toasted cassoulet in the trash along with the pot. Then he opened the window to let the air circulate and began the preparation of the beef curry at a super-human speed.

Zoro watched from afar with his brows furrowed until he could no longer stand to see Sanji make so many basic mistakes, something atypical of him. The last straw was when the blond cut his finger while slicing some vegetables. Zoro got closer and put his hand on the other's forehead.

“Are you okay? You're acting weirder than usual.”

Sanji pressed his lips, pushing Zoro's hand away. What did he mean by weird, when it was HE who had arrived too early? He wanted to give an petulant answer, but his mind was in a incredible pandemonium. At that moment his brain decided to remember the horoscope's words and the not even a little bit realistic suggestion Luffy gave. He remembered the many recipes he cooked for the first time since he met Zoro and the burnt blender that started it all.

He also remembered, as he smelled the cologne of the man in front of him, that he had not yet bathed and that his bangs were all messed up and tied with colourful hair clips that not even a little matched with his image.

"Oh, fuck it." He mumbled, tired of feeling nervous, and suddenly pulled Zoro in for a kiss. It was short, but when he moved away the other showed a stunned expression. Before his judgement returned to full function, he poured out the sentence. "Will you marry me?"

Zoro's expression became even more astonished - if that was possible, but in his mind a quick calculation occurred:

Good food + Handsome man + Non tedious cohabitation = Single chance!

When Sanji was about to take a step back to let him think of an answer, Zoro pressed a hand on his back, preventing him from moving away, and looked deep into his eyes.

“Yes.”

Of course, it still took a while for the initial passion to actually become love, but that is a mere detail. What matters is that everything worked out fine. Even if afterwards they had to deal with the wrath of a unconformed Judge Vinsmoke.

"Now you can go back to cooking." He added, slapping Sanji in the ass.

How was that saying again? The way to a man's heart is through his stomach?  
  


The negative comment of the blender remains on the site until today and sometimes generates some discussions between the couple, especially when Luffy remembers of what happened.

* * *

The famous redheaded reporter, holding a purple umbrella with one hand and holding a microphone in the other, was in front of the main building of the Germa 66 company, waiting for the president to leave. Nami was the name of this reporter. And she was always after a scandal.

“As you well know, since Sanji Vinsmoke left Germa 66 and was hired by Kamabakka Momoiro, better known as KamaMoi, a company that values inclusion and diversity, it has been speculated that the reason for the rift between Judge and Sanji was a divergence of moral principles. And although neither of the parties has spoken out either to deny it or to confirm it, today is the…” 

The glass doors of the building opened and Judge Vinsmoke passed through, accompanied by his secretary and also three burly security guards. Nami stepped forward in the direction of the company's president, trying to overcome the sea of competing reporters who were also hoping for a scoop.

“Mr. Vinsmoke, is it true that your other children were invited to the wedding that is happening today and you did not receive the invitation? Is it also true that you don't approve of Sanji's marriage to another man? Do you consider yourself conservative or do you also accept the term prejudiced? What is your opinion about Sanji working with your strongest competitor in the business? Are you afraid of losing your other children also because of your intolerant attitude?”

"Fuck all of you!" Was Judge's polite response, who almost growled at the reporters following him.


End file.
